


Do Not Go Gentle

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: And Somewhat Violent, Definitely AU, F/M, This One Is Dark, post 2x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3819436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons tries to make good on her promise to Ward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Go Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> "Do not go gentle into that good night,  
> Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
> Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
> 
> -Dylan Thomas, "Do No Go Gentle" 

She hears his footsteps, a pattern which seems to echo the pulsing in her temples. If he comes closer, the rage that is building inside of her will burst, and she will explode on him.

When he appears, her fingers dig into her palm, and her fist is solid, like a bullet in its chamber.

He looks at her and dares to smile.

"Oh, Simmons! So nice to see you."

His voice is cotton and petrol, but she ignites a spark, and the words burn into her. She is aflame.

She lunges at him before she realizes she's doing it, a natural reflex finally unleashed. She is meant to reach out and grab at his neck. She is destined to tear at his flesh. 

Hands catch her, pulling her back, and she struggles against them. This is how it was meant to end. This is who she was born to be.

She thrashes and writhes, but she is weak, and they hold her back. He oils his smile.

"Trying to make good on your promise, I see." He tilts his head in apparent amusement. "Well, that was a valiant effort."

She doesn't stop fighting, and in each moment the inferno builds. If she can't burn him with her hands, she'll breathe fire at him.

"You took everything from me!" She doesn't recognize the shriek, only the way it scratches at her throat. "You took  _HIM_  from me! He trusted you!"

She manages to break free, and she flies at him before they catch her again. They don't know that the life in him was meant to be squeezed out. They don't understand that his blood was made to soak this floor.

"I lost him! You took him from me!"

"Jemma?"

She has more words to scream, but the sound of her name turns them to silence, and the fight boils out of her. She slumps until she hangs from their hands.

"Jemma."

She can feel him getting closer, feel the aching in her heart as he puts a shaking hand on her shoulder.

"I know, Jemma," he soothes. "I tried it, too."

"Now, that's funny," the traitor says, "seems like you've got your precious Fitz right here."

"You took him," she cries, but she chokes on it. "You took him."

"And yet, here he is."

The hand on her shoulder stiffens.

"You blame me for what happened, but it was going to happen, anyway. Deep down, I think you know that." She dares to see how he now towers over her. "Because it wasn't me. And it wasn't his little bump on the head, either. What hurt you came from inside of him, and it was always going to come out, Simmons; there was no way to stop it. He wasn't going to keep that piece of himself hidden forever. All I did was give you a chance to see your little friend for who he truly his. It's not my fault if Fitz isn't good enough for you. If his love repulses you." He lets out a chuckle, a hollow sound that dries her up. "I didn't have to destroy you, Simmons. Didn't have to destroy him, either. You did it for me. Guess I should thank you."

"Leave her alone."

His hand is still stiff, but as constant as her rage. She tries to lunge again, but she has no strength left. Only the tears that fall onto her cheeks, and the ones that drip onto her arm. Her hate hardens into embers.

"Let's get out of here," he says. The dagger-words were meant for him, and when his voice breaks, she knows how deeply he was cut. The other hands let go, because he doesn't need their strength to restrain her. His truth is enough.

Somehow, they get out into the cool night air. She can't see the constellations through her tears, but she knows they stand sentinel above, that they've seen what she's done, and condemn her for it.

She tries to stop the heaving sobs, but she doesn't have the power.

"Hey," he says, and a gentle arm goes around her shoulders. "Jemma, I don't like it either, but we need him."

"I don't need him; I need you."

She buries herself in him, breathing in his scent, but that's changed, too. 

"Well, I'm right here. Like he . . . like he said. Not going anywhere, unless, uh, you know, you want me to."

She clutches at him.

"Jemma, really . . ." His breath hitches. "Really, it's okay. I, uh, you've been through a lot, and, uh, you know, if I'm making it worse . . ."

"If you think there's anything in this world I love more than you, you're wrong."

It bolts out of her like lightning, shocking and illuminating all at once. She hears him suck in a breath, and she finds the strength for one more surge, grabbing at his shirt to pull his lips down to hers. The kiss is messy and wet, and she hopes it will stop the tears, but it doesn't. Soon, she's sobbing into the crook of his neck. She doesn't know what she was trying to prove, but she certainly failed.

"You're more than that, Jemma," he whispers. "More than him, or me, or anybody. So much more." 

"He hurt you."

"I know."

"He made  _me_  hurt you."

"Jemma, it doesn't—"

"It matters, Fitz." She pulls away to look him in the eyes. "I didn't think anything could come between us. I thought we were indestructible."

He drops his gaze. "Yeah."

"I just . . . he doesn't deserve to live."

"Yeah, but you do." He sighs, shaking his head. "And, you know, we still managed to get the drop on Bobbi and the rest, to save SHIELD."

She wipes her tears away. "Yeah, I guess we did."

"And you still make the best sandwiches in all creation, so there's that."

She pulls herself against him, almost smiling into his shoulder. His arms wrap around her.

"Yeah."

She stands there for a minute in the moonlight, enjoying his warmth. And just as she thinks her tears have dried, he tells her they should probably go back, and she agrees. 

They walk back together, hand in hand, and a different heat starts in her fingers and shoots up into her cheeks. She knows what she said, but she knows he won't understand how she means it. And, honestly, she's not sure, either. But his fingers fill the empty spaces, and he  _was_  gone, but here he is. The same man who took him away somehow brought him back to her. Her clear eyes see the stars now, rotating slowly above her, preaching silent sermons of destiny and time.

She will find a way to mete out justice.

But she won't let go of this hand, not even to slay the Devil.

She'll never let go of him again.


End file.
